


Disciplinary Action

by alltoseek



Series: Spanking John [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 13:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah ensures John will stay awake on the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disciplinary Action

John woke up to Sarah's concerned face.

_Oh fuck_. He lifted his head from where it had been resting on his fisted hand. “I'm so, so sorry.” He could still feel the imprint of his hand on his cheek.

“Late night with Sherlock?” She smiled sympathetically.

“Yeah, chased a man all around Soho,” he answered, standing up.

“Look, John, do you want to keep this job?” Sarah asked, with a hint of worry in her voice.

John thought of Sherlock's boredom now that the case was over. The tedium even he felt between their adventures. Not to mention the cost of cab fare, take-out, replacement crockery... “Yes, yes, I do.”

“John. I can't continue to overlook these lapses because I am fond of you. ” Sarah leaned one hip against the desk, arms crossed.

John rubbed his brow with his hand. “Of course, Sarah, I swear this won't happen – ”

“You are scheduled for a shift first thing in the morning, right?”

“Uh, yes, I believe so. Look, I'll get plenty of rest tonight – ”

“Perhaps. However, I have a way to ensure you will remain alert tomorrow.” She pushed away from the desk and stood up straight.

“Remove your belt, please.”

John stared at her. His tongue ran out between his lips nervously.

Sarah sighed. “Your belt, John. Unless you'd prefer to give me your resignation.”

John's hand went to his belt buckle. He stared at Sarah, still not quite believing this.

Sara took the belt from him. “Drop your trousers and bend over the desk.”

_Oh God._ His mind tried to process the events whilst his body followed orders. He found the side of his head pressed to the desk, hands grasping the sides, his back curved to present his arse up in the air.

“Pants too, John.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed. _God, her voice when she said his name, so intimate, like a caress._ His hands trembled as he pushed his pants down to his thighs. Slowly he brought his hands back to grip the desk. He could feel his heart pounding, sweat prickling in his armpits. He'd fantasised about something like this, now and then, but never seriously... wanted it... to happen. It was happening... right now. _Oh God, oh fuck, oh god_. He swallowed again, mouth suddenly dry.

Sarah ran her hands along the curves of his buttocks, lifting his suit jacket and shirt up away, baring him from thighs to the middle of his back. She briefly caressed his arse again then stepped back.

John licked his lips again. _Was he getting hard? Oh God, please don't let him get –_

The belt whistled then cracked down across his arse. John gasped in shock and twitched.

“Hold still.”

_Oh sure, easy for her to say –_

The belt cracked down again. Pain bloomed from the second blow whilst the first increased in intensity.

A third smack. A fourth. _Jesus, is she hitting harder?_ John forced himself to hold still, but whimpers started escaping. Sarah _was_ hitting harder now. She was figuring out how best to wield the belt. John couldn't decide if it was better or worse that she wasn't an expert.

The pain from the blows blended together until his arse was one throbbing mass of heat. His hips jerked back and forth involuntarily, tying to avoid the blows. John assumed it was avoidance. He didn't want to think about an alternative. And the pain in his buttocks would distract him from the heavy hotness growing between his legs.

Sarah continued to stripe his arse, sometimes moving down to his thighs too, which hurt and stung but was a bit of relief for his poor backside. John had lost track of how many blows she'd given him. _At least she's not making me count them_. He didn't like to think where that thought came from, or why it made his prick jump. This was humiliating enough. His breaths were shuddering. _Please be over soon. Please, please, please..._

Then it was. Sarah's cool hand felt oddly soothing on his overheated throbbing arse. She leant over to look directly into his face. She was as calm and collected as ever. He didn't want to know what he must look like.

“This was for a first offense," she said softly. "Next time there will be more. And I will have you count them.” She drew her fingernails lightly up his abused buttocks. As gentle as she was, they still left stripes of fire in their wake. John groaned and shuddered again.

Sarah laid the belt on the desk in front of him and he listened as she left the office. Carefully John stood up and raised his pants and trousers. Unbelievable how much it hurt to cover the tender area. He walked – carefully, painfully – to the cabinet and applied topical analgesic (carefully, painfully, with much hissing of in-drawn breaths).

He straightened his clothes and made his careful, painful way home. _Must dig out my cane for tomorrow – look like I have a reason for limping._

After slowly climbing the stairs to 221B, he opened the door to their flat. Sherlock, who had been still asleep when he'd left for the surgery earlier that afternoon, now lounged on the sofa leafing through some magazines.

Sherlock looked up at John, who warned instantly, “Don't even – ”

Sherlock spoke over him, “Fall asleep at your desk again?” His lips quirked in an ironic smile.

John's shoulders slumped in defeat as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Two sugars for mine!” Sherlock called out to him.


End file.
